


Venusian Macchiato

by Rubynye



Category: Futurama
Genre: F/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-11
Updated: 2010-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-06 04:12:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/pseuds/Rubynye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PRODUCT MAY CAUSE SPONTANEOUS PREGNANCY IN VIRGIN RATS...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venusian Macchiato

Title: Venusian Macchiato  
Rating: NC-17  
Pairing: Philip J. Fry / Turanga Leela  
Warnings: het, crackfic, no spoilers.  
Summary: PRODUCT MAY CAUSE SPONTANEOUS PREGNANCY IN VIRGIN RATS...  
Fandom &amp; Prompt: Futurama, Fry/Leela, helpful   
Disclaimer: The characters herein do not belong to me.

 

Fry is wearing Leela's tank top on his head and a bemused expression, because she threw it at him and because he's Philip J. Fry, respectively.

Leela is wearing a surprisingly lacy pair of black panties, her boots, and an angry expression, as she tears around the room flinging items out of drawers and yanking fixtures off the walls. "Where _is_ it?" she shouts, attacking a bookcase.

Everyone else is escorting the Professor to a conference where Fry and Leela might have been dissected, so they celebrated their day off with a visit to the new Starbeans(TM) around the corner. Fry got a caramel mochacappalycheesino, and Leela had a Venusian Macchiato with extra whipped cream.

They drank them, walking back, the sun shining and the suicide booths humming. They went inside. And then this happened. Leela started tearing off her clothes, making Fry very happy, and then she started wrecking the room, which was fun to watch but a little scary.

"Fry!" Leela shouts, halfway up the bookcase. "you're not helping!"

Fry starts to say, "but I don't know what you're looking for!", but he only gets as far as "buh", because Leela is humping the bookcase. It's shaking and may be moaning, books and knickknacks flopping over and rolling out. She's frowning, as if she doesn't notice, and those panties really fit her nicely.

The book bouncing off Fry's forehead makes him blink, and when the sparks clear from his eyesight he realizes the white thing by his foot is Leela's discarded cup. She's growling, things thumping to the floor, but he picks it up anyway.

Fine print on the back, mostly big words, until Fry's reading kicks in as his eyes skim across, "...SPONTANEOUS PREGNANCY IN VIRGIN RATS, UNCONTROLLABLE DESIRE IN HUMAN FEMALES, AND IMPOTENCE IN REPUBLICANS. IF EFFECTS LAST MORE THAN TWELVE HOURS..."

Oh, okay. Fry looks up. He knows what to do. "Leela?"

"What?" She jumps down. She jiggles very nicely. The bookcase sighs.

"I think I've got it." Fry stands his ground as Leela paces towards him, her breasts doing that nice bouncy thing because her bra is over one of the lamps. She smells like coffee and sugar and perspiration, and he's definitely gonna buy her another Venusian Macchiato with his next paycheck. Carefully, because she might kick him into next week, he reaches out to cup her angry pretty face in his hands; looking into her eye the whole time, he leans in and kisses her.

Leela tastes even better than she smells, her mouth soft until she growls, hooks her leg behind Fry's knee to knock him down, and jumps on him. The next kiss isn't soft, and the next isn't really a kiss, it's Fry yelping into Leela's mouth as she rips his jeans open.

"Fry," Leela mutters. He opens his eyes, and her face isn't angry anymore, but she still looks kind of crazy, a happy-making crazy. "I think..." She trails off when he gurgles because she's tugging his dick out of his briefs. He has just enough foresight to wiggle them and his pants down around his knees, as she yanks her panties off, before she pushes down onto him.

She's as hot as good coffee and definitely way tighter. "Ahghgod," Fry says, and Leela kisses him again, pressing his head against the floor. Her breasts are soft in his hands, her thighs tight and strong around his waist from all that kicking, and Fry's gonna buy her a hundred Venusian Macchiatos, maybe two, the thought of all that sloshing creamy coffee swirling around in his head with Leela's lips on his, the way she's bouncing on him, how great she feels. It's his turn to swallow a scream as Leela comes, squeezing ripples around him that pull Fry right along after her.

"Uh," Leela gasps, slumping onto Fry, her mouth sliding down his chin. He manages to let go one of her breasts and get his arm under her head before she could hit the floor, and hey, he's still got the other to hold onto, and she's not even slapping his hand away or getting up and kicking him in the head. "Oh, wow," she mutters. "Fry?"

Fry opens his eyes. The ceiling light above them is askew, and Leela's cheek on his shoulder feels round, like she's smiling. "Yeah?"

"Thank you," she says, her voice all soft and low. "That really helped. You did." She sighs, and Fry could lie here forever or at least for five minutes, until she adds, "you know what would help more?"

"Uh." Fry's brain feels too melty to use for thinking. "What?"

Leela leans over him, and she looks like her everyday self again, except that her smile's gone all sharp. "Doing that again."


End file.
